


bleed and fight for you

by arpeggioschuyler



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Eventual Character Death, Genderqueer Character, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Multi, RIP, Slow Burn, actually i havent decided if im gonna kill john or alex yet but at least one person dies :), genderqueer lafayette, here i am writing gay fanfiction abt the founding fathers when im not even american, i blame lin and also tumblr and also maya, im going to hell, not john or alex dw, pls dont hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpeggioschuyler/pseuds/arpeggioschuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An obligatory high school au. Alex's world is turned upside down when he meets the new kid, John Laurens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a diamond in the rough

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry, only not really, only actually kind of. @lin if u are reading this im so sorry...
> 
> EDIT: a very lovely user, ducksndragons, pointed out that somehow i made them have lunch together???? laf & herc now don't have fifth w alex (for the sole purpose of them being there to be introduced to john + for them to witness the farmer refuted fight WHOOPS)

**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** …understand it was not my intention to be malicious when i first tweeted the statement that has become the source of many problems. i do (11/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** understand how this could be perceived as problematic. if you recall, the statement read (12/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** '@tommyjefferson i agree, but the issues in paris were not the only issues to focus on.' the aforementioned user had made a comment on (13/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** the attacks in paris when he was in monticello. my statement was merely pointing out that there were other tragedies at the same time as (14/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** the paris attacks, but they were not given the media attention necessary. it was not my intention to "pretend like those attacks weren't (15/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** huge deals", however, it was wrong of @tommyjefferson to call me a "insufferable bastard" when those terms have nothing to do with (16/17)   
  
**alexander hamilton @adotham  
** the topic we're debating about. (17/17)   
  
 “Alexander?”   
  
 Alex doesn't glance up from his phone at the sound of the familiar voice, and focuses on sending the last tweet in his series of seventeen.   
  
 “Alex!”   
  
 Alex glances up sheepishly at the dark skinned girl in front of him. She's wearing the coffee shop's apron in orange, and her red lipstick and sharp eyeliner is both beautiful and menacing.   
  
 “Hi, Angelica,” he says, and she takes the phone out of his hands and shuts it off. “Hey!” Alex cries out, slightly delayed.   
  
 “Were you tweeting Thomas again?” Angelica says with a sigh, recognizing what's happened.   
  
 “Look, it was necessary, alright? He was talking shit, and someone needed to correct him, and—”   
  
 “Just block him already.” Angelica says with a roll of her eyes.   
  
 “You sound like Burr. That's never a good thing.” Alex wrinkles his nose. “Speaking of Burr, he's probably already vague tweeted about me. I don't understand the concept of vague tweeting, why don't you just tag the person instead of leaving it up to interpretation?”   
  
 “Alex.”   
  
 “Everyone already knows it's me anyways, because all his vague tweets are about me except for the few in the summer from when he broke up with Theodosia, and I know those weren't about me because A, his Facebook relationship status changed from 'in a relationship' to 'single', and B, it was the only time he tweeted three times a row besides that one time back in 2012, and well, we all know what happened in 2012.”   
  
 “Alex!” Angelica almost shouts, and Alex realizes he was rambling. “I didn't come here to listen to you, I came to see if you wanted a refill, and if it would be alright if someone sat at the same table as you.”   
  
 “Yes, thanks, about the refill. And sure, why?” Alex responds.   
  
 “It's filling up quickly because it's our prime time. There's one table for the teenage girls that always come in at five on the dot to check out Laf when they're here, and then people will begin sitting with each other.” Angelica explains.   
  
 “Sounds good, can I have my phone back?“ Alex questions with a pleading look.   
  
 Angelica rolls her eyes and hands it back, saying “Thomas tweeted you,” before leaving to go back behind the counter with her sisters Eliza and Peggy. Alex quickly checks his notifications:   
  
**tommy boy @tommyjefferson**   
save it for the debate meeting lmao xoxo #nochill #stillaninsufferablebastard   
  
Alex then checks his feed to see Burr's tweet.   
  
**aaron burr @aaron.burr**   
Why do some people have the pressing urge to start drama?   
  
 Alex sighs and begins to think of a ten tweet reply about how Burr stands for nothing. He begins typing, but is interrupted by an unfamiliar male voice observing, "You're typing quickly."   
  
 “Yes, I am.” Alex says, moving onto the part where he screenshots some of Burr's old tweets as proof.   
  
 “Mind if I sit here?” The person asks. Alex glances up and his heart nearly stops. Standing before him is a guy of average height, with mildly tan skin, pulled back brown hair, and striking hazel-green eyes.   
  
 “Of course. I mean, I don't mind. Of course as in, of course you can sit here.” Alex says quickly, his words blurring together. The guy politely laughs and has a seat.   
  
 “I'm John,” the no-longer-a-stranger says with a smile. “And you are?”   
  
 “Alexander Hamilton,” Alex says, instinctively reacting with his full name.   
  
 John finds it endearing, probably, as he responds with a smile and a "John Laurens."   
  
 "So, what's your stance on—" Alex begins, but just at that moment, his mouth is covered by a sighing Angelica Schuyler.   
  
 “Alex, here's your refill. John, I'm so sorry, please ignore any of his political comments and questions. It would be wise to avoid him in general.” Angelica says, setting down Alex's coffee and then uncovering his mouth.   
  
 “Uh, thanks?” John says awkwardly.   
  
 “Just looking out for you,” Angelica laughs. She winks and walks away.   
  
 Alex takes a sip of his coffee, clearly annoyed. “How do you know Angelica?” He asks.   
  
 “Oh, her and her sisters gave my family a welcome basket when I moved in. The Schuylers are my next door neighbours.” John says with a small smile.   
  
 “Oh, you're new! That explains how you didn't recognize my name. What school are you going to?” Alex asks enthusiastically.   
  
 “Yorktown High,” John answers hesitantly, and seems like he's about to say something else, but Alex interrupts him.   
  
 “That's so cool, I go there too! I was the new kid two years ago, and it was totally fine!” Alex responds excitedly.   
  
 “Where'd you move from?” John asks, an innocent question.   
  
 Alex tenses for a moment. “Unimportant.”   
  
 John is clearly a little surprised by this answer. “Oh, alright then.”   
  
 “What's your schedule?” Alex asks, cheerful as ever.   
  
 “English, Health, Lunch, and then I have Co-op at the local hospital.” John says, and Alex sees the light in his eyes after he mentions co-op. “I can't wait for it. What's yours?”   
  
 “English, Law, Lunch, Political Science, Business Tech.” Alex answers quickly. “Are you in University English?”   
  
 “Yeah. So we have English and lunch together?” John asks hopefully.   
  
 “Seems like it,” Alex grins. “I can't wait to introduce you to my group of friends. If you want to, of course, I just thought it would be nice now that you know the Schuyler sisters and I.”   
  
 “How did you meet the Schuyler sisters anyway?” John asks curiously, and Alex laughs.   
  
 “It's an interesting story that usually gets revealed when we play Confessions or Never Have I Ever at a party.” Alex says, still laughing. “You'll find out eventually, it's really not mine to share.”   
  
 “Sounds interesting,” John says with a smile, and Alex takes a sip of his coffee, and they launch into a long conversation about co-op choices that slowly turns into a completely different conversation.   
  
 “… why I founded the secondary school newspaper, it was a necessary improvement for the school. The Yorktown Post was clearly needed, especially after Jefferson's antics during the debate in April of '13.” Alex explains.   
  
 John raises his eyebrows at this. “You'll have to tell me more about the debate in April of '13. And by the way, do you have the time?”   
  
 “Oh, yeah!” Alex says, checking his long-forgotten phone. “Wow, it's five forty-five.” He laughs, but his laughter dies when he sees John pale.   
  
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, standing up and grabbing his bag. “I have to go, but I'll see you at school, Alex.”   
  
 “Oh, alright. Bye John!” Alex says, still with a smile, but when John turns his back, the smile lessens. He takes a sip of his cold, unfinished coffee, and picks his phone back up again to type.   
  
 Angelica walks over without her apron on, taking the seat John had previously occupied. “Did you scare him off?” She teases.   
  
 “No!” Alex denies it. “He left as soon as he realized the time.”   
  
 “Oh, that's odd. Speaking of the time, though, I just got off work and Eliza and Peggy are heading out in a minute. We were thinking we could call up Laf and Herc and force them into seeing a movie with us?” Angelica proposes.   
  
 “I'm down for it,” Alex says, grinning.   
  
 “We were hoping John could come, but apparently you couldn't shut your mouth,” Peggy says, coming up from behind Angelica with a smirk.   
  
 “I didn't scare him off!” Alex protests, and he's answered by the laughter of both Schuyler sisters. Peggy waves Eliza over, and they walk out as Alex insists that he was nothing but kind to John.   
  
\--   
  
 The first day of school brings about more drama than expected.   
  
 Alex is sitting in the foyer with his venti, extra whip, caramel brûlée latte, waiting for his group of friends, when Aaron Burr enters the building.   
  
 “Aaron Burr, sir!” Alex cries out, leaping to his feet and almost spilling his latte.   
  
 Burr groans. “Hello, Hamilton. How many times have I told you to stop calling me sir?”   
  
 Alex considers this. “Probably around two hundred,” he answers cheekily.   
  
 “I wouldn't doubt it,” Burr says, and Alex sets his coffee down on the ground and takes a small book and a pen out of his backpack. “What's that?”   
  
 “It's called a pen, Burr.” Alex says, rapidly writing for a moment, then he puts the book and pen away and picks up his coffee.   
  
 “You know what I meant, Hamilton.” Burr says tautly, and the corners of Alex's mouth twist up in a wry grin.   
  
 “If you must know, it's an itemized book of the last two years of disagreements between us. I plan to continue it further once we get into Columbia together.” Alex says cheerfully, watching Burr's expression carefully.   
  
 Ever a man of little words, Burr breathes deeply. “Have a nice day, Hamilton.”   
  
 “You as well, Burr!” Alex responds, and Burr walks off. Five minutes pass as Hamilton types frantically on his phone, and then Lafayette and Mulligan walk through the foyer doors and Alex grins.   
  
 “Alex, mon chéri, how have you been in the past three days? Absolutely horrible without us?” Laf says cheerfully.   
  
 “What else?” Alex says, still maintaining a grin. “We do all have fifth together, right?” For the past two years, they've had every fifth period class together, either by some unholy coincidence, or Laf managing to convince administration. They don't speak. Alex tries again. “Right?”   
  
 “The only time fashion is available is fifth period.” Mulligan says.   
  
 Alex's mouth drops open. “Oh. Well then. What about you, Laf?”   
  
 They hesitate. “I didn't want to leave our dear Hercules alone during fifth, so I switched my schedule.” They confess.   
  
 Alex groans. “This is disastrous news to learn on the first day of senior year. How could you do this to me?” He whines overdramatically.   
  
 “I'm sure whatever they did isn't as bad as you're making it out to be.” comes a voice from behind Alex, and his grin can't possibly get any wider.   
  
 “The Schuyler sisters!” He cheers. They stand in their line of three, impeccable as always. Angelica sports red lipstick and a spaghetti strap top that he knows she'll be yelled at for. Peggy stands in the middle, running a hand through her hair, radiating joy. Eliza is on Peggy's other side, amused at what she had just said, her rose lips quirking upwards.   
  
 “You just saw us three days ago, Alexander.” Angelica berates him as he tries to pull all three of them in for a hug at the same time.   
  
 “And?” Alex asks, pulling away from the Schuyler sisters with a light in his dark eyes. Angelica doesn't answer him, just sighs.   
  
 “We should get to class,” Eliza voices.   
  
 “Anyone here that hasn't betrayed me have first period English?” Alex questions, and receives a chorus of "no, sorry"s. “Fine, anyone that has betrayed me have first period English?” Laf and Mulligan both shake their heads no, and Alex sighs.   
  
 “I'll see you after school, yes?” Lafayette asks the group.   
  
 “Come to 7:15, I'm on work right after school.” Angelica proposes, referencing the coffee shop that the three sisters work at.   
  
 “It's a plan.” Mulligan says, and the group goes their separate ways.   
    
 When Alex enters the first period English classroom, he spots a certain John Laurens and beelines towards him with an ever bigger grin than before, if that was possible. “Hey John!”   
  
 “Hey, Alex.” John smiles back.   
  
 “How are you liking good old Yorktown High?” Alex drawls with a raise of his eyebrows.   
  
 “It's only first period, I haven't really formed an opinion yet.” John responds, seeming to find Alex endearing.   
  
 “Really? Well, once you've formed an opinion, tell me.” Alex replies, and then turns back to the front when their English teacher clears his throat and begins to speak.   
  
 English and Law are went though without any drama, but it's at lunch when things pick up.   
  
 He brings John to their usual table, and starts introductions. “So, this is Mulligan, and this is Lafayette, and you already know the Schuyler sisters. Squad, meet John Laurens.”   
  
 “Uh, hi. You guys only go by your last names?” John asks, leading to a devious smile on Alex's face.   
  
 “Oui, my pronouns are they them, so my last name is more… how you say, genderneutral.” Lafayette explains. “And as for our dear friend Mulligan here…”  They tilt their head towards the Schuyler sisters, who break out, albeit hesitantly, into the song Zero to Hero. Mulligan buries his head in his arms.   
  
 Alex watches John's reaction as he realizes what song it is. “Oh,” John says. “Your first name is Hercules?”   
  
 Mulligan groans. “Yes, and that is the very reason why I go by Mulligan.”   
  
 Alex watches as John suppresses laughter. “I see,” the green eyed boy says with just a hint of laughter in his voice. He's about to say something else but pauses as a loud, obnoxious sounding voice starts preaching.   
  
 “America does not belong to the immigrants! America belongs to Britain! America belongs to us! I am ashamed that people believe that Syrian refugees will do us good! They should just go back home!” shouts a scrawny white boy front a few tables over.   
  
 Alex feels his heart almost stop beating. “Who is he, Donald Trump?” Mulligan quips, but Alex doesn't laugh.   
  
 “Samuel Seabury, actually.” Angelica comments. “He's a racist shithead, so, yes, essentially Donald Trump.”   
  
 “Alexander,” John says softly. Alex turns to him. “Go wreck him.” Alex looks at the group, sees Lafayette and Mulligan nod, Angelica and Eliza sigh, and Peggy barely contain a smirk. Then, he stands, tightening his ponytail and marching over to the kid.   
  
 “Hey!” He shouts, and the kid glances at him, looking unimpressed. “You're kidding, right? Because I cannot believe someone could be so unbearably stupid! Those people don't have a home to go back to, those people need our support. American hasn't belonged to Britain since the damn seventeen hundreds, and America sure as hell doesn't belong to a white piece of shit like you! America belongs to the people. It belongs to those who stand for it, those who would fall for it! And if those refugees come here and are willing to stand with America, then America belongs to them too! They need a safe haven, and it will destroy the ideals of our country if we deny them access!”   
  
 When he pauses to breathe, the kid breaks into another tirade. “You're just one of those fuckers, ain't you? Just another fucking immigrant who thinks he can do whatever he wants? America isn't yours, asshole!” The kid retorts, and Alex tenses right before springing forward and punching the kid in the face.   
  
 The kid flails backward and falls, clutching his face, and it takes all of Alex's self control not to step or spit on him. “My dog is more intelligent than you, bastard.” He says, about to launch into another heated paragraph when there's a hand on his shoulder.   
  
 Alex swings around, knocking the hand off. “Hamilton,” Burr tries. “Was that necessary?”   
  
 Alex looks at him, fire in his eyes. “Absolutely.”   
  
 “You should've let him be.” Burr says tautly.   
  
 “You think I'm going to let him get away with spouting irrational shit? I thought you agreed with me on this matter, Burr!” Alex argues, and in the corner of his vision, sees the kid standing, wiping away blood.   
  
 “Alexander, please, let's go.” Burr tries to reason with him. Alex is about to comply when the kid speaks up again.   
  
 “Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, you fa—”   
  
 The kid doesn't have time to finish the sentence because Alex slams his fist in his face once, twice, three times, arguing through his rage.   
  
 “It doesn't matter if he's my boyfriend or not, you have no right to use a slur like that—” Alex spits out as multiple hands drag him away. The kid mutters something under his breath, and Alex yells back, “Thanks for giving me my new Twitter name!”   
  
 Eventually, he's dragged out of the cafeteria screaming by Burr, Mulligan, and John. “When I said destroy him, I meant that verbally, Alex.” John says with a sigh.   
  
 “Yeah, well, did you hear what he said?” Alex protests. “He deserved it!”   
  
 “It doesn't matter what he said, Hamilton. You just ruined your reputation.” Burr says evenly. “I'll see you later.” He walks away, and Alex rolls his eyes, fishing his phone out of his pocket.   
  
 “What are you doing?” Mulligan asks bemusedly.   
  
 “Tweeting.” Alex replies absently, and begins to compose a tweet.   
  
**aggressive bi immigrant @adotham  
** can't believe i'm going to get punished for standing up for myself. in other news, i have a new twitter name, christened by dick @samseabury   
  
 He hits send, no undoing it now, and waits with Mulligan and John for his punishment.


	2. welcome to the present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Jefferson shows up, much to Alex's disgust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI WOW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!!  
> no rly it was shocking my first fic on ao3 and this much support??/ tysm
> 
> also: ive found that when dealing with loss i tend to be much like our dear alexander hamilton. meaning i pour myself into my current writing project as a distraction, and since i don't have english this sem, and science notes aren't cutting it, you guys get another almost 3000 words!! yay!!
> 
> (edited tags: eventual character death. take that for what you will)

After the first detention for the disaster that Mulligan calls "farmer refuted", Lafayette calls "un chef-d'œuvre brillante" and John calls "terrifying in a great way", Alex meets up with the gang at 7:15, the local coffee shop that the Schuyler sisters work at. They're all gathered around a table, sipping from their mugs and engaging in boisterous chatter when Alex walks in.

He cuts towards the counter first, orders from Angelica, who seems just a little bit annoyed that he punched Samuel Seabury, and then grabs his coffee and heads over the table. Eliza's already grabbed another chair for him, in between her and John, and he flops into it dramatically.

“You will not believe the annoying piece of shit I had to rebut in detention,” Alex gripes. He doesn't allow anyone to guess before he says drastically, “James Monroe.”

“At least it's not Jefferson,” Lafayette tries to reason, but Alex still rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I can't wait to kick his sorry ass during debate tomorrow.” Alex says fiercely. “He's been saying shit on Twitter for the whole summer. It's always 'chill' this, and 'lmao' that, but he never has the nerve to debate with me unless we're at a meeting.”

John, who is the only one who hasn't heard any of Alex's Jefferson-based complaints before, asks naively, “Who's Jefferson?”

“Thomas Jefferson is a bigoted little shit with obnoxiously big hair that likes to drive me insane. Have you met him? Zero fashion sense, he was wearing this blinding pink velvet suit, who even wears pink velvet to school?” Alex rants, and the rest of the group sighs, except for John, who has a small smile on his lips. “He doesn't understand any struggles of life, he's always off smoking weed in his parents' house in Monticello! And every time we debate during debate meetings or model UN, he always looks at me like I'm a stupid child. A, I'm not a stupid, B, I'm not a child! Thomas Jefferson, asshole bigot, there isn't a plan he doesn't ruin. He's corrupt, sneaky, melodramatic, villainous, manipulative, condesce—”

“Are you talking about me again, Hamilton?” Alex recognizes that voice and grits his teeth as Thomas Jefferson himself waltzes up to the table, still clad in his bright pink velvet suit, with James Madison by his side. “What was that, exactly? Corrupt, sneaky, melodramatic, villainous, manipulative, and?”

Alex glowers at him. “You just gave the group an example of it.” He spits out.

“Condescending,” Madison says flatly, and Jefferson's mouth forms a feral grin.

“Am I now, really?” Jefferson croons, straightening out his suit.

“You'd better direct your trying-to-be-seductive voice to Madison, seems like he'd want it more.” Alex says. He knows it's a low blow, but everyone knows it's true that Madison had been in unrequited love with Jefferson for years. Jefferson still seems oblivious to the fact, no matter how many times people tell him outright. Alex has seen them at parties, making out after Angelica left Jefferson, or after the whole Sally Hemings scandal was revealed.

Jefferson laughs, but looks uncomfortable, and doesn't have a true answer to that statement. “I'll see you at the debate team meeting tomorrow, Hamilton.” He says tautly, and leaves with Madison faithfully by his side.

“Unfortunately,” Hamilton mutters, and feels John's eyes on him. He turns to meet his glance. “What? You're looking at me weirdly.”

John looks amused, raising an eyebrow. “You're interesting,” he says, but Alex (and everyone else probably) can tell that there's more to say that he leaves unspoken. Alex just hopes one of the possibilities is 'you're cute when you're angry' (a sentiment he's heard from many of his friends, but he feels like it would be different hearing it from John.)

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Angelica thundering over, and braces himself. “Alexander Hamilton, I swear to god if you cause any more scenes I will not hesitate to kick you out. Capire?”

“Understood,” he says, but they both know it'll happen again, because that's the way it goes with Alex. He fights with no regards to any outside rules. Angelica heads back behind the counter with her co-workers and John leans over.

“You're a liar,” John whispers playfully in his ear, and Alex shoots him a sly look.

“It's not a lie, I do understand, I just won't play by that rule.” Alex says back to him quietly.

“Rule breaker, then.” John concedes. “Not a liar, but a rule breaker. A trouble maker.”

“I can't deny it,” Alex responds with a smile, and John smiles back, and for some very strange reason, Alex's heart flutters a bit.

They jump into the conversation, which switches topics so quickly that Alex isn't sure that John would be able to keep up, but he doesn't fall behind. The conversation ranges from Lafayette's winged eyeliner (“Holy shit, Laf. Teach me your ways.” Angelica says as she stops by to drop off Mulligan's refill) to weird dreams ("I had one where I was a turtle-loving abolitionist, it was kind of strange," John remarks to the laughter of the table). But just as it reaches around five fifteen, John stands briskly, tugging down further on his long sweater sleeves (Alex doesn't know why someone would wear long sleeves in September, but according to Jefferson's remarks during the debate of April '13, "[Alexander] shouldn't be judging other people's clothing after that atrocity [he] wore yesterday.")

“I have to run, sorry guys.” John says, grabbing his bag and slinging it on his shoulders.

“Already?” Lafayette asks curiously. “Mon ami, quel est votre couvre-feu?”

John smiles tightly, and doesn't answer to the question. Alex isn't sure if it's because he doesn't understand basic French, or because he doesn't want to answer it.

“Laf, leave him be. Il peut juste avoir un engagement préalable.” Alex says, and Laf regards him curiously, but says nothing.

“I'll see you guys tomorrow, bye.” John smiles, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes like it did before. He swivels on his heel and walks out the door, and if anyone notices the change in Alex's attitude after, no one mentions it. The conversation picks back up quickly again, discussing the new rival coffee shop that opened up a block away, and it's as if John was never there.

\--

With the first debate meeting of the school year comes the menace that is Aaron Burr and Thomas Jefferson combined.

They haven't elected a new leader of debate team for this year, so they're dealing with the horrid amalgamation which is Alex, Burr, Jefferson, and Angelica Schuyler combined. Alex and Angelica are a great team, and Jefferson and Burr are the same, but the four combined together is nothing but trouble. Jefferson opens with a speech, which makes a few horrible comments that Alex objects to, but ends up scaring the weak freshman off, which is the goal. Then, they pair up and face off against another pair. Alex and Angelica beeline for each other, while Thomas sticks with his best buddy James Madison, while Burr is left supervising and showing some freshman the ropes.

“The topic on the table is: the voting age should be lowered to sixteen. Find another group to pair up with. One group takes affirmative, the other takes negative. I'll be around to help people out.” Burr says, printing the topic on the whiteboard in neat red print.

“We're going negative,” Angelica says sharply in Alex's ear.

“Why?” He questions, confused.

Angelica smirks. “This topic was chosen for a reason. Thomas expects you to go affirmative, so he's going affirmative this time so you can't approach him on this topic.”

“Angelica Schuyler, you're a blessing.” Alex proclaims, and they pair up with idiots called Thomas Conway and Charles Lee, who have chosen affirmative.

“Affirmative starts with an opening argument, negative cross-examines, negative rebuts, affirmative cross-examines, negative closes, then affirmative closes. Got it?” Burr asks, and begins to write down the process of the whiteboard in his blocky letters. He pauses to start the clock, and says, “Go!”

“Wait, so it's us first?” Conway asks, and Alex rolls his eyes.

“Yes, start.” Angelica commands, and both Lee and Conway flinch. Alex grins.

“So, um, the voting age should totally be lowered to sixteen. Teenagers are like, awesome, right? We should have a say in what goes on in our country. We're totally mature enough to, uh, vote. In fact, the voting age should be lowered to like, ten, right?” Lee tries, and Conway elbows him sharply. “Nah, all jokes, all jokes. But like, teenagers are super mature, the voting age should be lowered to sixteen.”

“Is that all?” Angelica asks, clearly trying to suppress a laugh, and Lee nods. “Right. I'll cross examine. So you say you're mature enough to vote, yes? Are you aware of what age the frontal lobe, also known as the decision making part of the brain, works?”

“Uh, no.” Lee says, stunned.

“I'll lay it out for you. Mid-twenties. Can you do basic math, Lee?” Angelica asks sharply, and it goes on, back and forth, with Angelica's silver tongue and Lee's stammering answers. Finally, it's Alex's turn for the closing argument.

“The fact that Lee and Conway believe sixteen year olds should be allowed to vote is laughable. Example A, standing before you, Charles Lee.”

“Just call me Charlie, dude.” Lee says, and Angelica shoots him a lethal glare.

“Example B, standing before you, Tom Conway. They have argued the point that sixteen year olds are mature, and sure, some are, but where do we draw the line? The voting age was already lowered back in 1971, from twenty-one to eighteen, because eighteen was the military requirement. There's no sense in lowering it again, especially when kids these days have proven their immaturity. Tell me, Lee, Conway, are we going to let the white sixteen year olds who shoot up schools to vote for the future of our country? Are we going to let kids get involved in something most of them don't understand? Hell, some eighteen year olds don't understand the importance of voting! It's not just casting a ballot, or going along with what your best friend is saying, it matters to our country. If we let sixteen and seventeen year olds vote, that's a whole new demographic, yeah? A demographic who easily falls under the influence of peer pressure, a demographic with twisted opinions by parents, teachers, and friends before they can make their own! So no, we should not allow sixteen year olds to vote, because that would reflect horribly on our country.” Alex finishes just as Lee rolls his eyes.

Angelica is looking to him, impressed. “It's been a long time since I've seen you in practice, and you're good as ever. Just as hotheaded and rough around the edges, but still good.”

“Just good, Ang? You wound me.” Alex says dramatically, and Angelica smiles at him.

The timer goes off just a moment later. “Same topic, switch partners.” Burr calls out, looking bored.

“Let's get him,” Angelica says, grabbing his arm and dragging him over Jefferson and Madison. “Hey, Thomas. Hey, James.” she greets them with a charming smile and Alex has to hide his snickering as Jefferson freezes, wide eyed.

He quickly recovers. “Angelica, babe, how are you?”

“One, not your babe. Two, fine, but that isn't relevant. Three, debate with us.” Angelica states a set of her three truths.

“Well, I would've loved to, but we argued the affirmative last time, so…” Jefferson trails off with a smirk.

“Lucky us, we took negative.” Angelica counters. “So?”

Burr resets the stopwatch. Jefferson sighs. “Fine,” he says, and Alex's grin is feral.

The countdown starts, as does Alex. “In this day and age, social media is the new teen scene— it's how they express their opinions on multiple different subjects. What many don't realize is that social media platforms have become a stepping stone to get teenagers into politics. Many teenagers have become interested in politics and law, among other subjects along the same line. This encourages teens to start a future in politics, but they often hesitate when making a decision whether or not to, because it's claimed they are too young. A way to ensure that teens will get into politics and to further their education and care for this country, is letting them vote at sixteen years old. It sounds young, doesn't it? Especially after the voting age was already lowered back in '71. But teenagers are more mature that you would believe. They have made marks in history, and to deny them the right of voting would be incredibly demeaning.” He finishes shortly, thanks to Angelica nudging him as to when he should stop, and the cross examination begins.

Alex would've preferred to have Madison cross-examine him, as he's blunt and straightforward. Jefferson has taken on the job, and he layers his questions with personal attacks. Alex grits his teeth through all of it, and then Madison rebuts, and Angelica cross-examines him. Finally, it's time for Jefferson's closing statement, and then Angelica's.

“It was enough back in the 70s when the voting age was lowered from eighteen to twenty-one. Eighteen is young enough to begin with, but sixteen? Sixteen is the age where you get behind the wheel for the first time, when you have your first taste of alcohol, when you finally start to realize the joys and wonders of being a teenager. Sixteen is not a time to be worried about politics. At sixteen, you should not be able to put your legal opinion on the leader of our country. Yeah, it's their future, but when the next election rolls around, they'll all be twenty with hopefully good heads on all their shoulders! This is a point that should not be wavered! Just because something thinks he's entitled to vote at a young age just because his tragic past, doesn't mean he is, especially when he's not even American.”

Alex's blood boils. There was no reason for a personal attack. “Alex,” Angelica warns, and Alex looks at her fiercely.

“I'm taking the closing argument.” Alex says quietly, tensed. He swears he sees Angelica smile.

“And so, sixteen year olds should not be allowed to vote.” Jefferson says, taking a step back and grinning lazily, as if to say, 'the floor is yours'.

“Thomas, that was a really nice proclamation! But we all know what you're talking about. Your 'joys and wonders of being a teenager'— pot and masturbation, in Monticello. Yeah, I get it! Your secret's safe with me! But, I digress, I know its personal, its not really isn't something to bring up,” Alex says, but by this point almost the whole room is tuned in. Everyone loves to see Alexander Hamilton go off on a poor soul, but it's even better when it's Thomas Jefferson he's verbally pummelling. “But another personal thing you shouldn't bring up is someone's past. Never once, in that debate, did I imply that I took affirmative because of my quote unquote 'tragic past'. And don't you dare say I am not American. I wrote my way out of that goddamn island while everyone I loved died, I worked my ass off to get here and get to where I am now, so you don't get to tell me I am not American. I am legally an American citizen, and honestly? I'm more American than you. Your voice on freedom is great, sure, but only when you're debating! You don't stand to the ideals of our nation! So go ahead and keep ranting about those joys and wonders of teenage life, go ahead and keep supporting underage drinking, but don't you dare make another personal comment, you dirty bastard!”

The room is in silence, and Alex half expects Jefferson to laugh. But then, people that have circled around them begin applauding, and Jefferson's frown grows. He takes something out of that disgustingly bright suit of his (today, it's purple, and he still looks like a clown) and hands it to Angelica.

“Consider yourself uninvited, Hamilton.” Jefferson spits, and stalks out of the room.

Angelica and Alex look at the paper, which is an invitation to Jefferson's start of the school year party on Friday. Then slowly and carefully, she rips it up and hands the pieces to an annoyed looking James Madison.

“Meeting adjourned,” Angelica says loudly, and people begin to scatter.

Burr rushes over. “There's still another half hour, you can't—”

“Yes, I can. Unless you'd like to continue it on your own, because Alex and I are leaving.” Angelica says smoothly.

Burr exhales, perfectly controlled. “I'll see you next week,” he says evenly, and walks out with everyone else.

“So, Jefferson's party. I'm sure as hell not going.” Angelica says, raising her eyebrows at Alex, who suddenly gets an idea.

“Good. You're coming to mine, then.” Alex decides. “A gathering of our close friends, featuring alcohol. What could go wrong?”

“Didn't you just rebuke Jefferson for underage drinking?” Angelica asks innocently, and Alex sighs.

“Come on, we have to start telling our friends, it's already Wednesday!” Alex says, bounding out the door, and Angelica follows with a smile on her cherry lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for all the support. the next few days r gonna be p busy bc i have 2 more school days to write like 5 more tests and then i have visitation funeral stuff so just a warning again for lack of update aight
> 
> thank you guys youre all gems xoxo


	3. past patiently waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol happens at some point. It gets kind of weird. Also, Alex apparently doesn't like peppermint tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i have dinner w the extended fam tmrw and then all the stress is over and i can actually enjoy winter break!!!! also have fun w this chapter bc writing it i was just having war flashbacks to that one time in grade five when we were all waiting for the bus and we decided to play spin the bottle with handshakes and hugs. s2g this one girl got lice ater that. (also i most certainly did not scrub my hand for five minutes straight and almost miss the bus after shaking hands w a gross dude) BY THE WAY PEPPERMINT TEA IS FREAKING GREAT EXCEPT FOR AT FUNERAL HOMES BECAUSE FUNERAL HOMES USUALLY HAVE SHITTY TEA

“You're loitering,” says Eliza Schuyler, hands on her hips, standing in front of Alex. He's been sitting in the corner of 7:15 with his laptop for the past three hours, typing away, with the mug of coffee he had two hours prior empty.   
  
 “I am not, I bought a coffee.” Alex protests. He's been there since before Eliza started her morning shift before school— from 5:00, when he snuck into the building for warmth, to nearly 8:00.   
  
 “Yeah, two hours ago.” Eliza reminds him, dark eyes flashing. “And there's still a half hour to go before we need to be at school, and I'm not letting you go coffee shop hopping like the last time.”   
  
 “We don't mention the last time, Eliza.” Alex says gravely.   
  
 “Pay up. And we both know you don't need another coffee, so no matter what you order, I'm making it decaf.” Eliza says sharply.   
  
 Alex rummages in his pockets and finds nothing but two dimes and a quarter. “I don't have enough. Betsey, can you cover me?”    
  
 “My shift supervisor will see me. He already made me come over to tell you that you need to pay or I have to kick you out.” Eliza says anxiously.    
  
 Alex sighs, beginning to gather up his things, but the bell on the door rings. Into the warmth walks a freckled guy with a green scarf to match his eyes.   
  
 “Hey, John!” Alex waves him over, then turns to Eliza. “What about John? Am I allowed to stay here if John comes?”   
  
 “Only if John orders something,” Eliza says, as John approaches the table, removing his scarf carefully.   
  
 “Hey, Eliza. Want to grab me a peppermint tea?” John says kindly, handing her the money. Eliza scurries off with a nod, and Alex snickers. “What?”   
  
 “Peppermint tea, really?” Alex says.   
  
 “You've got a problem with it?” John asks bemusedly.   
  
 “How do people stand that stuff? It's so minty!” Alex complains.   
  
 “I'd imagine it would be, considering the name.” John says dryly.   
  
 “Shush your mouth, John.” Alex says playfully. “So, I've a question to ask you.”   
  
 John freezes. “What is it?” He says carefully, as if he's afraid of the answer.   
  
 Alex frowns. “It's nothing bad! I'm having a little get together on Friday while Jefferson has his bash that he uninvited me to. I wanted to know if you could come.”   
  
 “I'll have to check what my curfew is  on Friday,” John says, tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. “By the way, I was wondering if you could do me a favour?”   
  
 “Anything,” Alex says quickly.    
  
 “When we were at the coffee shop two days ago, and Lafayette asked a question, and you responded, and you were both speaking French. What did you say?” John asks hesitantly.   
  
 “They asked when your curfew was, and I told them you may just have a prior engagement.” Alex says evenly, a bit confused as to why John would want to know. Eliza stops by quickly, setting down John's tea with a small smile and a pat on Alex's shoulder as she passes.   
  
 “Thanks. I just- I didn't understand what you were saying, and it felt like you were gossiping.” John replies uncertainly.   
  
 “We wouldn't gossip.” Alex promises. “Not even about Jefferson, because Laf refuses to gossip about him, because apparently they're eyeliner buddies or something of the sort.” He rolls his eyes and it's John's turn to snicker. “What?”   
  
 “The way you vent about Jefferson is just adorably hilarious.” John says, suppressing a chuckle. There is a possibility that Alex's heart skipped a beat when John called him adorable, but if asked, he would deny it. Instead, he acts affronted.   
  
 “John Laurens, I am telling the honest truth! Am I really 'adorably hilarious' when dismantling Jefferson's lies?” Alex says, mock offended. John laughs, then takes a sip of his tea.   
  
 Lafayette enters the shop, beelining over to Alex and John, standing above Alex. “What's this I hear about a party tomorrow?” They drawl, running their hands through Alex's hair.    
  
 “It's a get together, not a party.” Alex insists, glancing up at Laf.   
  
 “Ah, a get together? Remember the last time we had one of those?” They laugh, pulling up a chair next to Alex and leaning into him. Something about John's facial expression changes as he sips his peppermint tea mechanically.    
  
 “What happened last time?” John asks naively.    
  
 Alex and Lafayette glance at each other, and break into laughter. “Truth or dare happened when we were all excessively drunk. It was at Laf's house, so we had makeup, and Laf's dare was to put heavy makeup on me, and then my dare was to go two houses down to Burr's and have a casual conversation with him.” Alex explains.   
  
 “We still have the video chère Eliza took. I believe Burr is still traumatized to this day.” Lafayette recounts with a smirk.    
  
 “Wow, that sounds intense.” John says, and Lafayette leans their head on Alex's shoulder, and Alex plays with their hair. Something in John's voice changes. “We should start heading to school,” he says shortly, rising and grabbing his bag, and grabbing his to-go tea.    
  
 “Yes, true. Wouldn't want Alexander to miss out on his valuable Burr time in the morning.” Lafayette grins, and Alex elbows him, and the duo stand.   
  
\--    
  
 The rest of Thursday passes uneventfully (with Alex only adding three more disagreements to his Burr list, and only mocking Jefferson twice.) As does Friday's school day, and while most people are getting ready to go to Jeffersons' party, Alex is at the Schuyler residence, preparing for the 'get-together'. It was a last minute decision for the Schuyler sisters to host, just because Alex had forgotten to get permission from his foster parents, and his foster parents would not be okay with the alcohol Mulligan and the Schuylers were bringing. It was an added bonus that Phillip Schuyler was out of town from Friday-Sunday, as he was most weekends.    
  
 Eliza sets down a stack of red solo cups on the coffee table in the living room, just as Peggy puts down shot glasses with a flourish.   
  
 “Peggy, where did you find shot glasses?” Eliza says, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly.   
  
 “I found them when I was about twelve, Daddy hasn't moved them since. I just washed them up, and voila.” Peggy says slyly. It's her first year joining them at parties and get-togethers, although she's popped her head in occasionally. She may be the youngest of the sisters, but she can pull her weight.   
  
 “They should be coming about now,” Angelica says, walking into the room briskly, setting down various types of alcohol on the table.     
  
 “Sounds excellent. What's the plan? Do we start with a game so people begin drinking?” Alex questions.   
  
 “We should start with Never Have I Ever to get some alcohol into everyone's systems, and see where it goes from there.” Peggy gives her opinion, and Alex nods in agreement while Angelica looks vaguely impressed and Eliza looks horrified.    
  
 “Peggy, why are you good at alcohol-inducing strategies?” Eliza asks worriedly.   
  
 Peggy laughs. “Laf is pretty helpful,”  she admits, and Eliza sighs.   
  
 The doorbell rings and Alex strides quickly to the door, and opens it with a flourish. There's John, fiddling with his sleeves again, with a small smile on his lips. “Hey, Alex.”    
  
 “Come on in, John! Mulligan and Lafayette should be here in probably the next thirty seconds.” Alex says cheerfully, and John makes his way in, shedding his coat. Alex shuts the door behind him. “Have you finished the argumentative essay for English?”   
  
 “That's due in two weeks,” John points out wryly.   
  
 “So it is,” Alex remarks. “I'm done it though. I had so much fun with it— do you think the teacher will mind if I go fourteen pages over the limit?”   
  
 John's jaw drops. “You're kidding, right?”   
  
 “Ah, you haven't properly seen Alexander's essay writing, have you?” Angelica says, strolling towards them casually. “He writes non-stop. Sixty thousand words in a month, one time, just because he was pissed off.”     
  
 “Impressive,” John says, raising his eyebrows. “By the way, Angelica, thank you for hosting. I would've brought something, but I don't want my dad to realize anything was gone when he gets back from his trip.”    
  
 “It's fine, don't worry about it.” Angelica says with a smile. The doorbell rings again and Alex opens the door to let Mulligan and Lafayette in.   
  
 “The party is here!” Mulligan cheers.   
  
 “And by party, he means me.” Lafayette says wryly, looking stunning as always.   
  
 Mulligan saunters in, setting two bottles down on the table, and greeting the Schuyler sisters, Alex, and John. Lafayette follows his lead, albeit more gracefully.   
  
 “So! Time to get started?” Alex beams, and there's a chorus of yeses. He plops down on a couch, John next to him, and Eliza on the other side of him. Then, from Eliza, it goes Peggy, Lafayette, Angelica, Mulligan, on various pieces of furniture.   
  
 “Wait, first, everyone take a shot,” Angelica instructs, opening a bottle of vodka and pouring it into each shot glass. Alex knocks his back, wincing slightly as it burns his throat on the way down. John and Peggy both cough, probably both vodka virgins, but John handles it better than Peggy (who looks like she's almost choking).   
  
 Angelica fills up the glasses again as they wait for Peggy to recover, and then Lafayette starts.   
  
 “Never have I ever beaten up someone at a Pride parade,” they say, winking at Alex.    
  
 Alex scowls. “We're starting off hard by targeting others? I see how it is, Laf. And besides, the dick was saying A was for allies. I wasn't gonna stand for that. A is for asexual, aromantic, and agender!” He announces.   
  
 “Are you drinking or not?” Laf says, and Alex takes a shot, as do Angelica and John.   
  
 “It was by accident, long story.” John says in lieu of explanation.    
  
 “Never have I ever made a booty call,” Angelica says with a smirk, and Laf and Alex both drink with a sigh.    
  
 John raises an eyebrow at Alex, who answers with, “It was an accident.”   
  
 “Never have I ever fantasized about someone in this room,” Mulligan says with a grin, and Angelica, Eliza, Alex, and Laf all drink.   
  
 John grins, and Alex's stomach sinks, knowing he'll be out again. “Never have I ever kissed someone in this room.” He announces, and everyone collectively groans, and drinks.   
  
 “Peggy? Really?” Eliza says disapprovingly.   
  
 Lafayette laughs. “Lighten up, Liza. She's sixteen.” They say, and pour Eliza another shot, forcing her to have a drink.   
  
 Alex grins deviously. “Never have I ever wanted Alexander Hamilton to shut up,” he proposes, and everyone drinks to that.    
  
 “Never have I ever hooked up with two or more people in under twenty four hours,” Eliza says, eyeing Angelica, who drinks up. Lafayette does as well. Alex can feel his shots kicking in and the effects of the alcohol settling into his system. He likes the feeling it brings him, of lightness and buzzing.   
  
 “Never have I ever had vodka before today,” Peggy says, and everyone drinks up, including John.   
  
 “But you were coughing,” Mulligan points out.   
  
 “I've had it, but I was thirteen, at camp. That was an experience.” John cringes. He seems more open now that he has alcohol in his syste.   
  
 “Never have I ever gone up to someone and led them to believe that I wished to hook up with them.” Lafayette targets Angelica this time, who drinks.   
  
 “It was one time,” she complains. “You were barely a part of it.”    
  
 “Explain the story to John,” Alex urges her. “John, this is how I met one third of the Schuyler sisters.”   
  
 Angelica sighs, and takes another shot. “So. It's grade ten year, and for some god awful reason, I go to a party that Dolley Payne was hosting, because Thomas Jefferson couldn't host yet because he was only a grade ten like us at the time. So I'm at the party, and Thomas and I are hitting it off, and he goes to get us more drinks and leaves me with the mission of finding a good spot for us to hook up.” Angelica pauses, and Alexander takes over.   
  
 “So I'm very drunk, first real high school party, minding my own business, when Angelica walks up to me, drunkenly holds my face in her hands, and asks me if I know a good spot to hook up. How else am I supposed to take that?” Alex shrugs, and John laughs.   
  
 “It was for Thomas and I!” Angelica defends herself.   
  
 “You weren't complaining when I took you up to a room,” Alex says smartly.    
  
 The game continues, with various interesting comments ("Never have I ever had a fake ID" "Never have I ever puked on someone I was kissing" "Never have I ever had phone sex"), and then, once they're all sufficiently drunk, Lafayette suggests spin the bottle and Eliza opens the tequila.   
  
 Laf spins first with an empty beer bottle, and it lands on Mulligan, who sighs. They plop themselves into Mulligan's lap and pull him in for a long kiss, before Mulligan picks Lafayette up and sets them back down.   
  
 Mulligan spins again, and it lands on Eliza, and they share a chaste kiss that Lafayette boos at until they deepen it. Eliza spins, and it lands on Peggy, and Eliza kisses her forehead because the group all collectively agrees incest is just wrong. Peggy spins to Alex, who can finally say he's kissed all three Schuyler sisters. Alex spins back to Eliza. Eliza spins to John, and their kiss is short and sweet and Alex totally takes a picture to tweet it.   
  
 John spins to Lafayette, which is a little bit awkward, Lafayette spins to Angelica, Angelica to Mulligan, Mulligan to Peggy, Peggy to Angelica (in which there is another forehead kiss). Alex is getting antsy, because there's something stirring inside him. With all the alcohol, he can kind of come to terms with the fact that he kind of wants to kiss John. Only kind of, of course, it's just because of the alcohol that this want is exemplified, but his point still stands. Angelica goes to John, John to Eliza again, Eliza to Lafayette, Lafayette to Alex (and their kiss isn't quite PG, because old habits die hard). Alex spins carefully, and someone up there must like Alex and his bisexual wants a whole lot, because the bottle lands on John.    
  
 Alex turns to the beautiful freckled boy next to him. It completely slips Alex's mind that a) during the game John had only kissed girls and Laf and b) John had not been entirely comfortable kissing Laf. But Alex forgets these two crucial facts because he's inebriated and he really, really wants to kiss John.   
  
 So he does. He leans forward quickly, pulling John in closer, and pressing his lips to John's. It's exhilarating and satisfying all at once, but it ends all too quickly. John pulls away and Alex is left feeling like the kiss was years ago and he's reliving a memory in a dreamlike state. He's starting at John, and John's staring at him, and Alex can't place the look in his eyes.   
  
 Lafayette clears his throat, and Alex almost jumps. “Your turn to spin, John,” they say pointedly, and Peggy snickers.    
  
 The games continue with mildly uneventful spins and a boring game of Truth or Dare, until it's reached twelve, and it's time for everyone to start heading home. It seems early, but it's a school weekend, and Alex's foster parents allow him out until one o clock only one night a weekend, provided he either gets a ride or doesn't walk home alone. Laf and Mulligan leave, and it's left with Alex, John, and the Schuyler sisters.   
  
 “My house is right there, I'll see you guys.” John says with a smile.   
  
 “Nope!” Alex protests, clutching his arm. “You're my John and I'm going to walk you home.”   
  
 “It's just a house down,” John says, but Alex shakes his head and clings to John's arm. “Fine,” John relents.   
  
 “Alex, come back afterwards so Ang and I can walk you home.” Eliza says, playing with the unconscious Peggy's hair absently.   
  
 “Fine,” Alex pouts. The air is cold at night, as Alex holds the door open for John as they go. Alex is chattering on and on as John focuses on buttoning up his coat (although the house is right there). But when John looks up, they're nearly at the driveway, and John freezes and goes pale.   
  
 “Are you alright?” Alex asks, concerned.   
  
 “Fuck.” John says, gritting his teeth. “My dad's home.”   
  
 “Oh. Didn't you get permission to come?” Alex asks, but his question goes unanswered.   
  
 “Go back to the Schuyler's,” John insists coldly, not turning to face him.   
  
 “John, please—”   
  
 “Go back, Hamilton.” John snaps. “Now. I don't need you causing a fight when my father opens the door.”   
  
 “John—”   
  
 “I said go.” There's something like steel in his voice this time, and Alex stands still as John makes his way up the driveway. Alex looks at his figure at the front door, head bowed, awaiting his fate.   
  
 John goes up to ring the doorbell, and Alex walks away.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. BE CAREFUL WHEN UR DRINKING. IT IS NOT ALL FUN AND GAMES. YES IT GIVES U FUNNY STORIES AND YES IT IS A BONDING EXPERIENCE BUT U GOTTA KNOW YOUR LIMITS AND BE AROUND THE DRINKING AGE AND BE W PPL YOU TRUST. SRSLY GUYS. ALSO DONT TRY VODKA UNLESS YOU HAVE SMTH TO WASH IT DOWN WITH. ACTUALLY DONT TRY VODKA IN GENERAL ITS DISGUSTING. (life lessons from arpeggioschuyler whoops)


	4. a mind at work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette's full name is Marie-Joseph Yves Paul Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, and that's all you need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry for the late update,,, exams happened and for some reason this chapter was real hard to write
> 
> btw a bunch of weird shit goes on in this chapter its all v disconnected since I was just tryna reach my word goal
> 
> yay have fun

  Alex's head is pounding.

 

  His head is pounding and his throat is dry and it feels like something died in his mouth. He opens his eyes slowly, feeling like there are miniature weights resting on his eyelids, and groans immediately. The light is on, why is the light on, it's too bright, and Alex is far too hungover for this. He places his hand over his eyes and gets out of bed, blindly moving around the room in hope to shut off the light. 

 

  He feels around where the light is, but touches something solid that is definitely not supposed to be there. He takes his hand away and squints.

 

  “Morning, Alex.” It's Phillip, his fourteen year old foster brother, because who else would it be? Phillip flicks off the light for him.

 

  “Thanks, Phillip, now what are you doing in my room?” Alex asks.

 

  “Well, I kind of wanted to see you suffering from a hangover, because it's actually really funny, and I also delivered you water and Tylenol, and your phone. Check Twitter.” Phillip gestures over to Alex's desk, where everything lies, true to his word.

 

  “You're the real MVP,” Alex says, patting his arm, and beginning to stagger over to his desk. “Now get out.”

 

  Phillip snickers, but Alex hears the door close. He takes the Tylenol and gulps down the water, and gets horizontal again. After a few moments, he finally picks up his phone and hesitantly clicks the Twitter app and begins to look through his account and his notifications.

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

LOOK AT THESE PRECIOUS INNOCENT CINNABEANS ENGAGING IN NOT SO PRECIOUS INNOCENT ACTS 

Attached is a blurry picture of John and Eliza's kiss.

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

I AM OVERWHELMED WITH THIS ADORABLENESS OH MY GOSH #JOLIZA

 

eliiiiiiiza @eschuyler

@adotham … #joliza?

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@eschuyler YES #JOLIZA

 

aaron burr @aaron.burr

Tfw drunk people on Twitter…

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@aaron.burr STOP THE ELLIPSES BURR G O D YOURE SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE

 

aaron burr @aaron.burr

Some people think everything is about them…

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

SOMEONE TELL @aaron.burr THAT THE @ SYMBOL IS FREE

 

aggressive bi immigrant

FOR INSTANCE @tommyjefferson FIGHT M E 

 

tommy boy @tommyjefferson

@adotham … why would i fight you when i'm having a great time at the party you weren't invited to #chill

 

john laurens @popchickapop

@adotham get off twitter??? 

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@popchickapop GUYS JOHN HAS TWITTER GUYS GUYS GUYS @popchickapop @popchickapop @popchickapop

 

john laurens @popchickapop

@adotham ?????? get off twitter alex

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@popchickapop @eschuyler #JOLIZA ok bye

 

  Alex is already cringing at this, but there's more from when he got back home.

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

you know who is a GREAT kisser??? @lafayetteafff i mean like @eschuyler isn't bad and @popchickapop is really good too and also (1/5)

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@aschuyler is amazing as well (and @zerotomulligan is ok also i just feel weird kissing @pschuyler) but @lafayetteafff!!!! (2/5)

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

like damn!!!! also on the note of kissing let's all be real for a second… @aaron.burr is actually a pretty ok kisser. like (3/5)

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@deartheodosia wasn't the kissing enough incentive to stay???????? like u don't expect him to be good because, he's, y'know, BURR, but (4/5)

 

aggressive bi immigrant 

he's actually really good. @aaron.burr come kiss me again it's been like a year also you need to get out of the house more (5/5)

 

eliiiiiiiza @eschuyler

@adotham EXCUSE YOU 'isn't bad'????? bitch please 

 

angelicaaaa @aschuyler

good u better feel weird kissing @pschuyler she is a smol bean

 

and peggy @pschuyler

@aschuyler i am like. only. eight months younger than u. srsly. 

 

aaron burr @aaron.burr

@adotham Go to sleep. 

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

@aaron.burr EVERY1 LOOK BURR FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW 2 USE THE @ BUTTON

 

theodosia prevost @deartheodosia

@adotham Alexander, I know it's difficult, but do try to keep me out of your drunken ramblings. 

 

hERCULES MULLIGAN @zerotomulligan

@adotham GET REKT BY @deartheodosia

 

fave fighting frenchie @lafayetteafff

@adotham thank u i know im an amazing kisser 

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

okay okay okay you know who's a gem???? @phillip01

 

BLOW Y'ALL AWAY @phillip01

@adotham Thx but I'm right next to u 

 

aggressive bi immigrant @adotham

i take that back @phillip01 is a lil shit

 

That seems to be the end to the drunken Twitter ramblings, so Alex sends out a short seventeen-part public apology to those he may have offended last night, except for Jefferson, because no matter what, Jefferson's the living equivalent of foot fungus. Then, he checks the group chat, adds John to the group chat, and texts John privately to make sure everything is okay and that he's feeling alright. 

 

  John doesn't answer. 

 

  Alex tries not to think much of it. He spends the rest of his weekend texting in group chat, getting ahead in homework, and preparing for debate. That is, until Sunday night, when Lafayette texts him.

 

_so u kno my foster dad_

 

**yes**

**why**

**laf u can't just start a conversation like that and not say anything right after**

 

_how u say… CHILL_

 

**no**

**ok so georgey**

**gwash**

**washington**

**the big g**

**gdubs**

**what about him**

 

_ok so u kno how he's the head of that big ass law firm thingy_

_so they're doing like an intern thing_

_open to high school students_

_so it's a lot of filing and reports_

_and it's totally your vibe_

_so if you wanna get an interview i can probably score you one?_

 

**WHAT**

**COOL**

**WHOA**

**COOL**

**OK YEAH**

**LAF YOURE MY FAVE LIL CROSSSIANT**

 

_you spelt croissant wrong_

 

**I AM E X C I T E D OK LAFAYETTE**

 

_wait i'll make a deal with you_

_ill get you the interview only if you can tell me my full name_

 

**shit**

**ok**

**i got this**

**marie joseph paul yves roch gilbert du motier de lafayette**

 

_wow ok_

_Tuesday @ 5pm_

_be there or be square_

**thanks mjpyrgdmdl**

 

_don't_

_just_

_don't_

 

  Monday morning brings about another disaster. Alex figures that maybe John had his phone taken away, and he'll see him in English in the morning. And maybe, if John was actually ignoring his texts, he wouldn't be able to ignore him in class. But Alex gets to school, adds another two things to his itemized list of disagreements with Burr, and then excitedly gets to English class. John comes in a moment after the bell, with his hair out of its usual ponytail. He doesn't look at anyone, just slides into his seat with his head down. Alex leans over to him, and because he isn't one to be subtle, he says, “Hey, John. Did your phone get taken away?”

 

  John pauses, like he's not sure whether or not he wants to respond, then shortly and quietly says, “No. It didn't.”

 

  Alex hesitates. He's obviously considered that, but it kind of hurts. “So you were just ignoring me all weekend?” 

 

  “You don't seem to be getting the point of that, Hamilton.” John says, but there isn't much anger injected into that sentence, more of sorrow and defeat.

 

  “I think I get it now, Laurens.” Alex says sharply, and John doesn't respond to that. Some part of him feels satisfied, another part feels hurt. 

 

  Alex doesn't see John after that. He must've went somewhere else for lunch, and Alex feels like finding him, but he doesn't want to go overboard.

 

  “Alors, où est votre petit ami?” Lafayette says at lunch, looking amused.

 

  “That's the question of the hour,” Alex mutters. “And he's definitely not my boyfriend.“

 

  “What happened?” Eliza asks innocently.

 

  “He's been avoiding me ever since I walked him home from the party,” Alex gripes.

 

  “And why would he do that?” Peggy says, leaning forward.

 

  “I don't know,” Alex sighs.

 

  “Do my ears deceive me? Did I just hear Alexander Hamilton finally admit that he doesn't know something?” Jefferson calls out, making his way over to the table. “So, what is it? What's so puzzling?”

 

  “The only thing I don't know is why you're so obsessed with me,” Alex responds, standing. “You lurk around my lunch table, waiting for me to say something so you can jump out and try and insult me. So tell me, Thomas, why are you so fixed on being near me all the time? I would accuse you of a crush, but we already know Madison has captured your affections.” It's a low blow, but it's a necessary one. Hopefully, Jefferson will storm off without an answer.

 

  Jefferson doesn't storm off without an answer. “Oh, really? Big words coming from you. You're so obsessed with the new kid, but he's not at your lunch table like he was last week. He's been avoiding you. What scared him off? Did he realize he didn't want to hang around such scum?” He spits.

 

  Alex is about to retort when he says Angelica rise from the table and place herself between the two. “Thomas,” she says.

 

  Jefferson looks at her like she hung the moon in the sky. “Yes?”

 

  “Shut the fuck up,” she says, voice like steel. “Same to you, Alexander.”

 

  There's no use arguing with an angry Angelica Schuyler, so Alex takes a seat and glares aggressively at Jefferson's back as he walks away.

 

  “So you don't have any idea why?” Peggy says, jumping back into the conversation from where they left off.

 

  “I think we already clarified that,” Mulligan says, but Alex pauses.

 

  “Hold up,” Alex says. “I do know. At least, I think I might.” He raises his voice and yells, “SUCK IT, JEFFERSON!” The response he gets is an unamused glare. “We got to his driveway and he realized his dad was home, and he freaked out and told me to leave.”

 

  “Oh,” Eliza says. “You don't think…” she lets the sentence trail off, everyone at the table knowing what she's implying.

 

  Alex looks around at his friends. “It's not totally unreasonable,” he says.

 

  “That's a big thing to accuse someone of,” Lafayette says, voice as sharp as their eyeliner. “It's not something to be taken lightly.” 

 

  Alex understands. They've both been in the foster system, they've both had foster parents that they'd rather forget. He pushes the memories that are bubbling up aside. 

 

  “Besides, his dad is some hot shot senator. What about his reputation?” Peggy points out logically.

 

  “Doesn't matter if it happens behind closed doors, right?” Mulligan says.

 

  “Can we not jump to conclusions?” Eliza interjects, leaning forward on the table. “We don't know what's going on.”

 

 Lafayette sends her a grateful look that Alex doesn't miss. “We haven't even known him for a week.” They reason.

 

  “And we don't have any evidence of anything,” Angelica jumps in. “It could be that he just got sick of Alex talking to much.”

 

  The group laughs, as does Alex, but he still feels like there's something off. “I have a plan,” he announces. Peggy reaches inside her backpack, takes out a rosary, and starts praying. “Really, Peggy?”

 

  “I have this for this exact reason.” Peggy says, smirking, and starts: “Our father, who art in heaven…”

 

  “It's a good plan,” Alex insists, but no one is really listening. “I'm not going to do anything drastic.”

 

  That snaps everyone out. “Is that a promise?” Angelica asks.

 

  “No,” he says with a sheepish shrug. “But I'm hoping not to do anything drastic. I'm just going to gather up evidence until I have proof.”

 

  “And then what?” Angelica challenges. “His father is a senator. You can't possibly think—”

 

  “Peut-on ne pas avoir cette conversation?” Lafayette says with a sigh. _Can we not have this conversation?_ That's the difference between him and Laf, Alex supposes. He jumps at a chance to save and avenge. Lafayette would rather leave the past in the past when they don't know for certain. “You have more important things to focus on. Like the interview.”

 

  Alex perks up. “The interview!” he says, and when Eliza asks him to elaborate, he does. The rest of lunch passes without mention of John.

 

  Tuesday at 5 comes quicker than he expects. He arrives at the address Lafayette gave him, an intimidating, modern building. He gives his name and reason to the secretary at the front desk, sits down, and waits. 

 

  He really doesn't like waiting.

 

  There are multiple people Alex does not expect to see at this interview. Thomas Jefferson, for starters, or James Madison. It would be ridiculous if they showed up. Or, John Laurens, because Alex can't see why John Laurens would show up. However, someone he hadn't even thought about emerges from Washington's office. Burr walks out, his expression blank, his posture perfect, and then he lays eyes on Alex.

 

  “You're here for the interview?” Burr intones coolly.

 

  “Burr, sir! What else?” Alex asks. “Frankly, that's an absolutely redundant question. What else could there be for me to be here for? Of course, you could possibly be making conversation, but you aren't very good at that from what I've heard of your countless incidents, ooh, that reminds me, I need to set a reminder in my phone to finally set up the Aaron Burr: Human Disaster Twitter account. Anyways, if you were trying to make conversation, that wasn't a very good way to, because it's quite redundant, and also, you could've said more—”

 

  “Mr. Washington will you see you now,” the secretary interrupts, and Alex sees Burr let out a sigh of relief. 

 

  “Very well. Have a nice day, Burr, sir.” Alex concludes, and walks into the office. 

 

  Sitting behind the desk in the office is Lafayette's foster father, George Washington, who Alex has met once or twice. He's very physically intimidating, but Lafayette says that he's nice. That he's not like the foster parents they've both had in the past. 

 

  “I see you've met Mr. Burr,” Washington says, and if Alex listens closely, he swears he can hear a faint touch of amusement in his voice.

 

  “Yes, we go to school together,” Alex says, having a seat across from Washington and fiddling with his sleeves.

 

  “I'll get right to it. Why do you want this internship?” Washington says, eyes boring into him.

 

  Alex fidgets, starting his rehearsed answer. “Well, sir, I am a productive and quick worker and writer, and you'll—”

 

  “No,” Washington says and Alex freezes, tenses. “I didn't ask for why you qualified or why you'd be a good worker. I asked why you want this, son.”

 

  Alex almost laughs, ignoring the "son" comment. Burr, having to come in and explain why he wanted something? His own opinion, his own thoughts? As if. That was probably why his expression was so neutral when he walked out, probably masking his sadness at failing. Oh well. God, he has to answer this question. Why does he want this? He clears his throat, aware of Washington's eyes on him, and begins to talk.

 

  “Lafayette said that it was all filing and reports, and it was totally my vibe, and I trust them on that front. I want to work in this field, and I want experience, and honestly, I need something to occupy my time. Like I said, I'm an extremely fast writer, so instead of writing aggressive letters to the New York Times when I can't sleep, I can do something more productive. I like doing stuff like this, and I want experience, and I want to intern here.” He pauses uncomfortably, realizing he was talking for too long, and looks down uncertainly.

 

  “I was just like you when I was younger,” Washington says, and Alex's eyes snap up to meet his. “Contentious, hungry for knowledge, head full of grandiose fantasies.” 

 

  “I suppose,” Alex shrugs.

 

  “There's something you need to know before I even consider you for this,” Washington says, and pauses dramatically. “School is easy, young man, working is harder.”

 

  There are so many things Alex wants to say-- why is that relevant, why does that sound like a misplaced line in a bad fanfiction, but he settles for saying, “Why are you telling me this?”

 

  “I'm being honest. Although this is just an internship, you think it will be all fun and games, enjoying your writing. There's a difference between school and workplaces, and I need to know you understand that it won't be easy, by any means.” Washington's eyes are boring into his, but he doesn't look away. “So?”

 

  So? A proposition. An unasked question. Would he like this job? “I am not throwing away my shot,” he says.

 

  Washington looks as though he's about to laugh. “I'll contact you, son.” he says, and Alex bristles at the word. “Have a good day.”

 

  “You too, sir! Thank you so much!” he says cheerfully, and exits the office. He pauses before he leaves the building, texting Lafayette. 

 

**hey mjpyrgdmdl**

**washingdad is kinda intimidating**

**and calls me son way too much**

**but i think i got it**

_sounds cool_

_félicitations_

_sorry can't talk now_

_peggy et moi prévoyons_

 

**laf u realize french is literally one of my first languages right**

**what are you and peggy planning**

**LAF**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT TH HECK I GOTTA DOOOoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> I lov 21 chump street so much look it up
> 
> also. i fuckin love anthony ramos. oh man. hes so beautiful i cant cope. che cazzo anthony y r u so pretty
> 
> ALSO WHAT DO U THINK LAF AND PEGGY ARE UP 2 *insert eyes emoji*


End file.
